I have no idea whether the plot for this is original- nor do I know whether the title has been used for a paradox AAR (although the essence of its plot is well-known in literature and a diamond head song got me thinking about writing it in the first place). It all seems to brilliant to have been thought up by me, but here we go, a serious AAR based on a game I played on and off for a while.
May, 1329- an obscure area of the Central Balkans
Konstantinos trudged across the wet sloping hill he'd been told about. He had no idea where he was. The rain and thunder were incessant under the balkan sky- the sun had not yet set but Konstantinos' weary, gaunt face was illuminated only by occasional flashes of blaring white lighting in the darkening crimsom sky.
There was nothing living within sight. It was almost like a desert, save for the fact that the soil was a greyish-brown mud rather than sand. He'd been wandering for hours. Finally, he collapsed to his knees in despair. He tried to keep himself together, but he felt like he wanted to die- die and get it over with, that was the easiest way. After all, 20 long years, suffering prison, torture, and mutilation had but one purpose- to make him want to die.
He thought about drifting into oblivion now just as he had thought about it for so long in the past- but something inside him shouted.
You lived because you wanted to. Your anger keeps you alive to this day
He looked up at the unforgiving heavens. It would be night soon, and the blood- colored clouds above would block out the moon and the stars, leaving nothing but darkness. The words of the Mongol Shaman returned to him.
Far north of Hellas, beyond the reaches of what your weak kings call an empire is a place where the law of the earth is suspended and the law of one's SOUL is master and his wants and lusts rule. Master of the land. You yearn for something that you can find there, but the holy men of your land would deem you a BLASPHEMER should you pay for it, Greek! He stood up and tore off his shirt, looking at the disfiguring scars and stump where his hand used to be.
They took my hand. They cut me open! I can't fight, I cant play a musical instrument, I can't produce sons. MONSTERS!. He summoned all his emotions- the agony, rage, hatred that two decades had built up. He clenched his fist involuntarily until his fingernails dug into his skin. He closed his eyes and felt the rage boil violently inside of him, intensifying with each passing moment, a rage that only what he sought could ever satiate.
He opened his eyes. A cavrenous enterance leading down beneath the muddy ground stood before him. It hadn't been there before. He trudged onwards and stepped into it. As his first footfall hit the slick wet marble stair, he felt a sense of foreboding. He shrugged it off. He knew what this was and why it was here. And he knew the price.
Konstantinos continued downwards. As the obscure light of day faded, a deep purplish light which seemed to have no source but saturated the staircase completely guided his way. He walked onwards and downwards until he came to a chamber. The deep violet light emanated from the walls, which seemed to not be there, so to speak. The circular chamber was supported by massive pillars of a sort of stone resembling marble but at the same time unlike anything Konstantinos had seen before. The smooth pillars extended as far upwards as the eye could see. Between them, the purple light blossomed forth, but there was nothingness there, extending to infinity.
Konstantinos paid no mind to this oddity. A voice echoed into the chamber "Konstantinos". It was familiar.
"Nikkos" he responded. In front of him appeared his brother. His dead brother, that is. He still bore a deep gash across his neck were a sword had slit his throat, and his attire was exactly as it was the last time Konstantinos had seen him.
"You know what you are here for, Konstantinos. What do you want?" The figure appeared as real as a living being.
"Brother, I know you lost your life but I must have mine back. I want to be healed, to be made young again. I want power and the favor of fortune."
"Konstantinos. My master will accept your offer for the price of your immortal soul, but I beg you not to do what you are about to do. Think about what you are about to do- I am in hell, Konstantinos. I know the torments you faced at the hands of my murderers, I know you were forced to live when you yearned for death at the hands of the Turks. But the suffering here is far more awful and eternal. You are at a place where the world comes into contact with the afterlife. Heaven, brother, cannot be accessed this way, it cannot be approached physically. You are on the border between the world of the living and the kingdom of pain. This room is shielded, for to even glimpse a moment of the horor beyond would kill a man instantly. I suffer here, you don't need to. Hell follows me, even to this place on the other side. Nothing can break its hold upon me."
Konstantinos paused. "Why are you in hell, Nikkos? What wrong did you do?"
"While we were on campaign together, I took part in several raids that you did not. I pillaged and burned and murdered and raped, but for these things I felt no remorse and asked for no forgiveness. I am condemned. You still have hope of attaining heaven, Konstantinos. Do not do this."
"Enough! I loved you in your life, brother, but it is gone. I know the price I will pay! I have no regretts! I WANT MY LIFE!"
Nikkos' head sunk in despair. "When I died," he began, "I knew where I was going. As my life drained from me, I could not bear to ask for forgiveness or feel regret, but still I offered up a prayer that your fate would be different. You have chosen your path- I could've turned away but you cannot ever. I am sorry, brother. You are damned."
Konstantinos felt a rush of energy inside of him. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a suffering old man whose twisted frame could barely stave off death to the giant, broad-shouldered warrior he had once been. His limbs were imbued with the power of youth, the scars on his face and chest healed, and his hand re-appeared without pain, feeling as if it had never been removed in the first place. He knew that he was even larger and more powerful than he had ever been in his younger years. Even the tattered clothes he wore were transformed into the luxurious garb of a statesman or general.
"Souls do not need a written agreement to love or to hate, and they dont need one to be bound. Only your death will show your side of this contract. The influence of my master will follow in your wake you wherever you go. You will succeed in all that you do, but all around you suffering and destruction will be sown. You have longevity, and your family will not pay for your curse as you do, but the sons you sire will carry it with them- whether they can become free of it or embrace will be their choice, but it will be in their blood. You will have power, Konstantinos. Some day I hope you realize what you've done, but I mourn that it is already too late.
The figure of Nikkos vanished abruptly. Ahead of him, a square opened up in the purplish- black, and sunlight shone through blindingly. The purple light faded, leaving only a square of light against the black. Konstantinos stepped forwards and through the doorway, which closed behind him, and immediately recognized his surroundings. Constantinople. This is where it would begin.
May, 1329- an obscure area of the Central Balkans
Konstantinos trudged across the wet sloping hill he'd been told about. He had no idea where he was. The rain and thunder were incessant under the balkan sky- the sun had not yet set but Konstantinos' weary, gaunt face was illuminated only by occasional flashes of blaring white lighting in the darkening crimsom sky.
There was nothing living within sight. It was almost like a desert, save for the fact that the soil was a greyish-brown mud rather than sand. He'd been wandering for hours. Finally, he collapsed to his knees in despair. He tried to keep himself together, but he felt like he wanted to die- die and get it over with, that was the easiest way. After all, 20 long years, suffering prison, torture, and mutilation had but one purpose- to make him want to die.
He thought about drifting into oblivion now just as he had thought about it for so long in the past- but something inside him shouted.
You lived because you wanted to. Your anger keeps you alive to this day
He looked up at the unforgiving heavens. It would be night soon, and the blood- colored clouds above would block out the moon and the stars, leaving nothing but darkness. The words of the Mongol Shaman returned to him.
Far north of Hellas, beyond the reaches of what your weak kings call an empire is a place where the law of the earth is suspended and the law of one's SOUL is master and his wants and lusts rule. Master of the land. You yearn for something that you can find there, but the holy men of your land would deem you a BLASPHEMER should you pay for it, Greek! He stood up and tore off his shirt, looking at the disfiguring scars and stump where his hand used to be.
They took my hand. They cut me open! I can't fight, I cant play a musical instrument, I can't produce sons. MONSTERS!. He summoned all his emotions- the agony, rage, hatred that two decades had built up. He clenched his fist involuntarily until his fingernails dug into his skin. He closed his eyes and felt the rage boil violently inside of him, intensifying with each passing moment, a rage that only what he sought could ever satiate.
He opened his eyes. A cavrenous enterance leading down beneath the muddy ground stood before him. It hadn't been there before. He trudged onwards and stepped into it. As his first footfall hit the slick wet marble stair, he felt a sense of foreboding. He shrugged it off. He knew what this was and why it was here. And he knew the price.
Konstantinos continued downwards. As the obscure light of day faded, a deep purplish light which seemed to have no source but saturated the staircase completely guided his way. He walked onwards and downwards until he came to a chamber. The deep violet light emanated from the walls, which seemed to not be there, so to speak. The circular chamber was supported by massive pillars of a sort of stone resembling marble but at the same time unlike anything Konstantinos had seen before. The smooth pillars extended as far upwards as the eye could see. Between them, the purple light blossomed forth, but there was nothingness there, extending to infinity.
Konstantinos paid no mind to this oddity. A voice echoed into the chamber "Konstantinos". It was familiar.
"Nikkos" he responded. In front of him appeared his brother. His dead brother, that is. He still bore a deep gash across his neck were a sword had slit his throat, and his attire was exactly as it was the last time Konstantinos had seen him.
"You know what you are here for, Konstantinos. What do you want?" The figure appeared as real as a living being.
"Brother, I know you lost your life but I must have mine back. I want to be healed, to be made young again. I want power and the favor of fortune."
"Konstantinos. My master will accept your offer for the price of your immortal soul, but I beg you not to do what you are about to do. Think about what you are about to do- I am in hell, Konstantinos. I know the torments you faced at the hands of my murderers, I know you were forced to live when you yearned for death at the hands of the Turks. But the suffering here is far more awful and eternal. You are at a place where the world comes into contact with the afterlife. Heaven, brother, cannot be accessed this way, it cannot be approached physically. You are on the border between the world of the living and the kingdom of pain. This room is shielded, for to even glimpse a moment of the horor beyond would kill a man instantly. I suffer here, you don't need to. Hell follows me, even to this place on the other side. Nothing can break its hold upon me."
Konstantinos paused. "Why are you in hell, Nikkos? What wrong did you do?"
"While we were on campaign together, I took part in several raids that you did not. I pillaged and burned and murdered and raped, but for these things I felt no remorse and asked for no forgiveness. I am condemned. You still have hope of attaining heaven, Konstantinos. Do not do this."
"Enough! I loved you in your life, brother, but it is gone. I know the price I will pay! I have no regretts! I WANT MY LIFE!"
Nikkos' head sunk in despair. "When I died," he began, "I knew where I was going. As my life drained from me, I could not bear to ask for forgiveness or feel regret, but still I offered up a prayer that your fate would be different. You have chosen your path- I could've turned away but you cannot ever. I am sorry, brother. You are damned."
Konstantinos felt a rush of energy inside of him. In the blink of an eye, he had gone from a suffering old man whose twisted frame could barely stave off death to the giant, broad-shouldered warrior he had once been. His limbs were imbued with the power of youth, the scars on his face and chest healed, and his hand re-appeared without pain, feeling as if it had never been removed in the first place. He knew that he was even larger and more powerful than he had ever been in his younger years. Even the tattered clothes he wore were transformed into the luxurious garb of a statesman or general.
"Souls do not need a written agreement to love or to hate, and they dont need one to be bound. Only your death will show your side of this contract. The influence of my master will follow in your wake you wherever you go. You will succeed in all that you do, but all around you suffering and destruction will be sown. You have longevity, and your family will not pay for your curse as you do, but the sons you sire will carry it with them- whether they can become free of it or embrace will be their choice, but it will be in their blood. You will have power, Konstantinos. Some day I hope you realize what you've done, but I mourn that it is already too late.
The figure of Nikkos vanished abruptly. Ahead of him, a square opened up in the purplish- black, and sunlight shone through blindingly. The purple light faded, leaving only a square of light against the black. Konstantinos stepped forwards and through the doorway, which closed behind him, and immediately recognized his surroundings. Constantinople. This is where it would begin.
